To Break a Path
by NightOfAThousandDreams
Summary: Sometimes, obstacles make the best pathways. After a horrible breakup with longtime beau Raye, Naomi finds herself recruited onto the infamous Kira case. And as she soon realizes, forks in the road can sometimes be a choice between life and death. Naomi/L
1. Moving On

**AN: Alright kiddies, this here is a fic that I've been outlining the entire summer. I will be updating throughout the school year, as my stress-reliever. I'll try to have an update every Sunday night, but I can't promise. Anyways, please enjoy!**

**-Hana**

* * *

><p><strong><em>To break a path- "to open a way through obstacles by force or labor"<em>**

~o~o~o~

Summer in LA was a trainwreck waiting to happen. Both literally and figuratively. High-noon traffic always seemed to stretch longer with each passing hour, the honking of horns and the "colorful" yelling leaving a throbbing, buzzing migraine by the time the car traveled one whole mile. Lanes and lanes of cars, slithering at a snail's pace, boiling under a hot August sun, with no end in sight... not exactly what Naomi called "fun". Then again, the nights were hardly better- she'd gain a habit of drinking herself to sleep, which she knew wasn't the brightest idea, but it did beat listening to the endless bickering of the _lovely_ couple next door. How'd she land in such a cheap apartment, she couldn't say, but she knew it wasn't her fault. Well...not _entirely_ her fault...well, okay, so it was her fault, but she had her reasons.

Naomi Misora groggily sat up in bed, careful not to knock over one of the few empty bottles that were teetering on the desk next to her. Her blood-shot eyes scanned the room apathetically, noting the peeling flowerprint wallpaper, glancing at the flickering light bulb dangling lazily above her, glaring the cracked mirror next to her bed. Exactly one month and two days ago, that ill-groomed, unwashed, angry reflection that gazed back at her was a (somewhat) happy woman with a nice home, a good job, and the perfect boyfriend. Until, you know, he decided to show her that _wonderfully_ chauvinistic side of him. Surprise.

_"Naomi."_

_The Japanese woman lifted her eyes from her (very expensive) meal, smiling at her brunette beau. He had taken her to a very nice restaurant on the upside of town, a rare treat that neither of them usually indulged themselves in. It was a perfect date, Naomi kept telling herself- an upscale Italian restaurant, with fresh lobster on the table, and complete with a beach-side view. It was perfect, oh so perfect. But that little nagging voice in the back of her head wouldn't leave her alone. 'It is perfect', it would say. 'Almost...too perfect.'_

_Under that innocent little smile (that no one but Raye Penber would buy) Naomi was paranoid. Oh so very paranoid._

_"Naomi, there's something I need to tell you," the man was twiddling his thumbs as he mumbled. Naomi was inwardly panicking. Did someone die? Was someone hurt? Did he gamble again? ...Was...was he going to break up with her? She inwardly shuddered in apprehension._

_He was now standing up. Immediately the wheels began churning in Naomi's head, but as good as her deduction skills were at crimefighting, she always knew that she was a bit oblivious when it came to men._

_He was looking at her...and...kneeling down? She blinked. Oh. She gave a small shaky laugh, scolding herself for her own silliness. If she didn't know any better, she would have thought that-_

_"Naomi,"_

_H-he was...was he proposing to her? Her heart was beating faster, cold sweat broke out as she began to realize the nature of the situation._

_"Will you be my wife?"_

_Her breath hitched as she felt her eyes grow large, her heart palpitating so hard she wouldn't have been surprise if she had dropped dead. Was he joking? A look into his sincere and hopeful eyes declared that he was serious. A surge of adrenaline rushed through her body, her limbs itching to latch onto her boyfriend and smother him with kisses right there on the restaurant floor. But she kept completely still. Finally, after a moment of putting herself back together, the FBI agent felt herself twitch with emotion before finally letting out a strangely quiet "yes"._

_And that's when everything went downhill._

_Raye's face relaxed. "Really?"_

_She blinked. Why was he asking twice? "I said yes, didn't I?"_

_He sat back down immediately, intense excitement pumping through his veins. "Naomi...you have no idea how happy I am." Here, he clasped his hands around hers slipping on a beautiful diamond ring as he rubbed the skin tenderly. Butterflies were threatening to gnaw out of Misora's stomach- she was on cloud nine, practically floating with giddiness. Raye, on the other hand, looked like he had just won the lottery, grinning ear to ear. He leaned towards her, his grip on her hands becoming a little tighter. "Think about it! Now you can finally settle down with me, quit your job an-"_

_"Wait excuse me?" Naomi stated more than asked. The glow of the moment seemed to have gone to a screeching halt._

_Raye blinked before replying. "Quit your job. You're going to quit your job and become my wife, aren't you?" The buzz of the restaurant seemed to quiet down as the conversation took a turn for the worst._

_The raven-haired woman stared, dumbfounded. Where...?_

_"Where'd you get THAT idea?" Naomi asked, her eyes hardening as the initial happiness of the moment rapidly decreased._

_"Well, you'd quit your job so that you could have more time spending time with the kids-"_

_"Kids?" Naomi interrupted once more, her face portraying the initial amount of bewilderment and anger that she was feeling. They had been dating for a couple years, true, but Naomi hadn't put that much thought into the future- at least, THAT far into the future. Where was Raye getting all this crap anyways? She steadied her breath, trying her very best not to lose it. She looked up at her lover and spoke._

_"Raye...as much as I love you, I love my job as well. I mean, kids are great but...not right now..."_

_There was a silence. A very, heavy tedious silence that seemed to have taken over the entire restaurant, people peeping from the corner of their eyes towards the young couple in plight. The conversation, so short, but so heavy, was slowly starting to piss Misora off._

_Raye seemed a little more than frustrated as well. "Hon, if we're going to get married, it wouldn't make sense for both of us to have a job. I mean, I make more than enough money to support both of us, and well...I don't want you to get hurt." At this he tenderly took her hand, massaging it gently with his thumbs. His eyes were soulful, sincere. But putting all of that romantic smut aside, Raye had conveniently forgot that Naomi made at least five times more than he did. Misora decided to be nice and disregard that blatant offense._

_"Raye, you know I love my job," the Massacre said slowly. "And I know what you've been doing."_

_The man's face instantly went chalk-white, a heavy lump forming in his throat. He let out a nervous laugh, vainly trying to act composed. He refused to look at her directly, instead directing his attention to his now cooling soup. "...I...I d-don't know what you're talking about..." he mumbled._

_Naomi raised an eyebrow. "You know _exactly_ what I'm talking about," she said coolly, leaning back against her chair. "Over the past four years, I've gone from being on the frontlines to practically having a desk job. You think that I actually believe that it was merely coincidence that this began happening _right_ after you started complaining about my safety?" She glared at him harshly, a fire forming in the pit of her stomach. Where was all this anger coming from?_

_Raye was now sweating a bit, and his gaze still refused to meet Misora's. "That had nothing to do with me," he said hastily, his words disjointed and ill-fitting. "That only happened because of the drug dealing mista-"_

_Naomi shot up from her seat, slamming her fists against the table with a loud crashing sound, crying out, "To HELL with my mistakes!" She glared down at him, tears burning against her eyes, a dreadful lump threatening to choke out the last of her composure. "You've been using your "connections" to transfer me to less dangerous units. I've known this since it began, and I've been tolerating it, but just barely." Here, she looked at him firmly in the eyes. "I lost my job once, I don't plan to do it again."_

_Her boyfriend twitched at that. Remembering that she worked with the great L always sent a shock of jealousy down his spine, but Naomi knew that it wasn't her he was jealous of. He was jealous of L._

_She had often been told that she had smiled more after that case than she had during her entire life. She had worked with L. L. And somehow, this just drove Raye insane...the fact that another man made his lover happier than he ever had, regardless at how many times he tried. Naomi had attempted to reason with him multiple times, reminding him that it was a ground-breaking case, one that saved her career- but of course, he argued back that he should be more important than "some case" (though he knew full well it was anything but trivial), and that she needed to stop stalling, and marry him. Sighing, she ran a manicured hand through her hair. It was the first time in months that she had done anything to her nails...or any cosmetics, really. Raye said it looked good on her, better than her leather jacket. When was the last time she had worn her favorite jacket anyways? Not since Raye took it, she remembered. She frowned, scrunching her eyebrows furiously together. She needed a drink...she needed a nice long ride on her motorcycle. But of course, she couldn't since Raye had said that motorcycles were dangerous, and he forbade her from taking it from the garage and-_

_Wait._

_Naomi looked into her glass of water and at her murky reflection. Raye...Raye was controlling her life. She sank into her chair, her eyes brimming with tears, her mind full of anger and betrayal. RAYE had convinced her to wear a bit more make up. RAYE had forbidden her from one of her only pastimes. And now RAYE was trying to steer her away from her beloved FBI career. And then, to put some salt in the wound, she realized in horror that her shirts and jeans were slowly being replaced by dresses and frills...because Raye said so._

_She slowly sat down, heads now facing her directly. She looked at Raye coolly. "I love you Raye. I really do."_

_He stirred in his seat uncomfortably, her tone of voice sending shivers down his spine._

_She stood back up, throwing her purse over her shoulder. She was shaking violently, tears now flowing freely down her face._

_"But you won't control me."_

_With that, Naomi tore off the engagement ring and flung it straight into his face. She stormed out of the restaurant and ran into her car. Not until she was safely inside did she allow a loud sob to escape her lips._

* * *

><p>She had quickly moved out of their shared apartment, only grabbing her necessities and opting to send a friend to grab the rest of her stuff for her. She rented a cheap apartment room, not because she was short on cash, but because she wanted to get out of Raye's home as soon as possible. She figured she could find a nicer place later on, but it wasn't in her priorities at the moment. It was a week later that she began drinking heavily.<p>

Now, Naomi had drank alcohol in the past, maybe some champagne or a shot of vodka, but after the break-up it had become increasingly commonplace for Naomi to drink one, two, or maybe three bottles of beer in an hour. Part of it was to alleviate the pain, but mostly, she appreciated the muddled mind it gave her- she had always prided herself on her quick thinking and clear thoughts, but at the moment, she wanted to lose herself, to just forget about Raye and everything that had happened.

It was cool Friday evening when all of this screeched to a halt.

Staring emptily at the ceiling had become a rather horrible habit of hers, especially when she realized that she had already numbered all of the cracks that scampered across the surface. The fact that she was wasting time doing mindless bauble began to irritate her, especially when she began to realize she was letting her emotions get to her- _Raye_ get to her. If she kept this up, he was winning. She sat up on her futon, rubbing her eyes wearily. She had to go back to work soon. But she didn't want too. But she had too.

A sudden whirring noise jolted her out of her thoughts. She jumped on her feet, her eyes hastily looking back and forth for the source of the noise. Her eyes widened as they locked onto her laptop, suddenly alive and bright, even though it had been in hibernation for a good two weeks. A rush of excitement and nervousness took over her body as she instantly put two and two together. The last time something like this had happened...

L.

Instantly, she opened the laptop, the white screen blessing her with bliss and happiness. "L." she breathed.

For a moment, it was quiet. And then, that same, odd, synthetic voice spoke. "I see you have a microphone now, Naomi Misora."

She couldn't help but chuckle at the remark, but immediately regained her composure. "It's been a while," she said, shifting her feet here to there. It was strange- she was nervous, of course, but there was an odd feel of familiarity between them. He had been her boss for a while, some would even say partner, but she would be lying to herself if she didn't admit that it was he who had broken her out of her never-ending depression.

"It has," the computer agreed. "Onto business, though. Misora is one of the best agents who has ever worked under me. Right now, I am working on possibly the most challenging case of my career."

Naomi's head snapped up to this. Of course. She had been so drunk in her depression that she had almost forgotten about the infamous vigilante known as 'Kira'. L, from what she had heard, was now working on the case.

"What you are thinking is correct, Misora," the voice drawled on. "I am about to depart to Japan, to work directly with the Japanese Work Force."

The FBI agent's eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. L was giving far too much information. Did he trust her that much? Why was he telling her all this?

A knock suddenly rapped against her door.

Immediately, she reached to close the laptop.

"Wait, Misora." the computer said suddenly.

She froze.

"Please answer the door," it continued casually.

Slowly, she released her grip on the computer and walked towards the door. She felt her heart pound frantically against her chest as her clammy hands latched onto the door knob. Taking a deep breath, she swung the door wide open.

Her heart skipped a beat.

It...it was the man from the subway station. He was hunched over, bending his knees as if he was carrying a burden on his back. Large, black eyes looked up at her curiously, framed with such dark eye bags she wondered it if was makeup. He was rolling a lollipop around in his mouth as if there wasn't a care in the world, but it was the cellphone that caught her attention. Never taking his gaze away from her, he dangled the phone against his ear. And then he spoke.

In perfect harmony, both he and the synthetic voice on the computer said,

"I need you, Naomi Misora."


	2. Fourteen Donuts

**Oh look guys! An early update :). I guess I had a bit too much fun writing this chapter, but I will say that this will probably be the only time I do this, because I'm in school now...a senior e_e...BUT I included a kinda subtle sex reference in this chapter, pretty much because I read How to Read Literature like a Professor, and I really wanted to try writing sex...without writing sex e_o. Either way, if any of you catches the symbolism, I'll take a request and write it. First two people. :) (Hint: it's somewhere in the first few paragraphs, and it's kinda like Alfred Hitchcock)**

**Anyways, please enjoy!**

**-Hana**

* * *

><p><strong><em>To break a path- "to open a way through obstacles by force or labor"<em>**

~o~o~o~

For a few minutes, all Naomi could do was stare. He- this man who was supposedly L- did not seem to mind. In fact, he stared right back at her. He tilted his head a bit, the shuffling of his feet the only noise in the otherwise silent room. A train rushed by, rattling the building, the lone lightbulb swinging back and forth while dangling from a thin wire. As the rattling subsided, a beer bottle toppled off its shelf and landed on the floor with a loud crash. Naomi shot up in surprise, swerving her attention to the mess on the floor. "Fuck," she cursed silently, eyeing the puddle of alcohol as it slowly seeped into the floor. "And I just cleaned up too..." In a daze, she sank to the floor, mindlessly picking the broken shards.

She barely noticed the stranger padding casually to the mess, sinking in that absurd perch that Beyond Birthday once used. "Naomi Misora does not seem like herself," he deadpanned, looking at her through owlish eyes. She flinched and froze, refusing to look at the man straight in the eye. "Things happen." she said coolly. A small nibbling sound made its way across the room. Naomi refused to look over at Ryuzaki chewing holes into his thumb. "L" did not seem a bit perturbed. Instead, he tilted his head yet again, his eyes growing serious. "I have managed to pinpoint Kira's location to the Kanto region in Japan," he said, picking up a piece of glass with two wiry fingers. "The Japanese NPA does not know this yet, but I plan to work directly with them." Naomi processed this information quickly. She had known about the broadcast that had aired just a week ago; it was all over the news. But L wasn't exactly known for revealing himself to _anyone_ let alone a group of officials. It could only mean that either L was going insane and putting his life on the line, or this man was an impostor.

"I assure you, Misora-san, I am not a copy."

Naomi twitched, not because he had read her mind (L had a penchant for doing that) but because of his choice of words. _Beyond Birthday was a copy,_ her mind instantly translated, _But this man is the original._

_This man is L._

Her heart thumped loudly in her chest as she finally let the facts sink in. She gave him a slightly confused look as she suddenly faced him, her face perhaps a bit too close to his. "Last time we worked together, you never showed me your face," she remarked frankly. She eyed him a bit before she continued. "Why are you revealing yourself to me now? Why are you revealing yourself to _anyone?_" His eyes grew slightly wider- it was almost as if she was a mother scolding a child. Misora sighed, shaking her head in frustration. "This is dangerous...this man, _Kira_, he kills by knowing a name and a face. What the hell are you thinking?"

L only bit harder into his thumb, his gaze never leaving hers. Those dead, black eyes almost sent shivers down her spine. Finally, he spoke.

"I find it a bit unfair that you think of me reckless, considering how many impulsive actions you have performed before." She opened her mouth to retort, but shut it again-he had a point, though she hated to admit it. He reached down into his faded blue jeans, fishing through his pockets before grabbing another small lollipop and shoving it into his mouth. He lolled it around his mouth before pulling it out with a loud _pop_. "Kira is not an ordinary criminal," he mused, sucking on his candy blissfully. "Not only is he doing the impossible, but he is very intelligent-" He looked at her straight in the eye, his expression grim "Perhaps as intelligent as I. This isn't the usual case, Misora; the best way to solve this is to work directly with those under me. I do not wish to do this, but I simply have no alternative."

Naomi was quiet, the situation churning wheels in her head. She bit her lip harshly before looking up at him, her jaw tight with determination. "How can I help you, L?"

A small smile twitched at the side of his pale mouth. "I have not forgotten your intelligence, or your cleverness...or your kindness." He pulled himself up into a hunched stance, watching Naomi silently as she rose to her feet as well. "I believe that your help would be a valuable asset to the case."

A thrill of excitement and pride zoomed through her body. He...he was...

The odd detective slowly stretched out a thin hand, looking at her firmly. "Naomi Misora, I would like to recruit you into the investigation."

And, for the first time in over a month, a genuine smile graced over her otherwise stern face. She took his hand and shook it firmly.

"I accept."

* * *

><p>L left a bit after their conversation, explaining to Naomi that he couldn't stay long due to the twenty percent chance that someone might eavesdrop onto their conversation. Before he left, however, he slipped a piece of paper into her hands, disappearing before she could say anything. Blinking, she sat down onto her mattress, unfolding the paper to discover a list of instructions.<p>

_Naomi,_

_You will be leaving for Japan at approximately 2:14 AM tomorrow morning. Please pack lightly, and only your necessities. You will not be able to take a passenger plane on account of the 1.5% chance that you will be followed- therefore you will be joining me in a private jet. Read these instructions carefully. This paper must be burned in the next 12 hours._

_At 7:00 PM you will leave your apartment. Exit through the front per usual. Drive towards Elaine Avenue, but please make sure to drive around aimlessly for a good two hours before you arrive._

_Once this is done, park your vehicle about five meters away from the Dunkin' Donuts parking lot. Walk into the diner immediately. The cashier will be an employee of mine. Ask for a double iced 12 ounce soy mocha with caramel cream and white chocolate, triple the flavor. At this point, the cashier should ask, "Would you like a dozen chocolate donuts too?" Once they ask this, please reply with, "No, but fourteen will do fine." Remember these lines word for word. On your way out, remember to leave your drink on the counter. The cashier should rush out and claim that your forgot your drink. Once they catch up with you, thank them, and shake their hand. As you do so, please give them the keys to your vehicle as inconspicuously as you can. Do not worry, it will be treated with the utmost care._

_After you leave, walk towards the 76 gas station that will be to your right. It will appear closed, but once you arrive to the convenience store attached to it, give the door three loud knocks, three quiet knocks, and then another three loud ones. You will be greeted by a man. He knows who you are and what you look like, but he will give no sign of this. He will ask you what you want. Once he asks this, tell him that you lost a copy and now need an original. He should let you in at this._

_The man will lead you out the back door after half an hour, towards a white 2004 Cadillac. While you are with this man in public, please pretend that you are of some acquaintance (i.e coworkers, friends, cousins, lovers). You will both drive towards Club 66, where the bouncer should let you in immediately. Stay there for the next hour. I do not mind if you enjoy yourself, but please, do not get intoxicated._

_Once the hour is complete, you and your escort will exit through the back. An older gentleman will be waiting for you in a taxi. The license will be M234NK. Get into the back of the car. For the next two hours the car will be driven around aimlessly. _

_Finally, you and partner will arrive at a private airport. It will be somewhat secluded. I will be in Hangar 31. Be sure to say you are looking for a Mr. Rue Ryuzaki. Don't forget my donuts please._

_On another note, your laptop must be destroyed before any of this happens._

_That is all._

_-Ryuzaki._

~o~o~o~

Naomi groaned in frustration at the last line. This was the _third_ laptop in two years, goddammit! She rubbed her temples furiously before rereading the note a good twenty times. She raised an eyebrow- she knew that L was cautious (and rightly so), but all seemed rather... melodramatic. Like it was taken straight out of a _James Bond_ movie. Naomi shook her head, a thin smile placed on her face. _He doesn't take any chances, does he?_ she though wryly. Everything seemed so complicated...but nothing she couldn't handle of course. It also seemed rather ridiculous- especially the donuts part. _What the hell does he want with 14 donuts?_

She let out a huff before quickly scanning over the instructions again, making sure everything clung to her mind without a shadow of a doubt.

* * *

><p>It was 7:30 PM on the dot when Naomi took her lightweight dufflebag out of her apartment and towards her motorcycle. She had (painstakingly) smashed her laptop to unidentifiable smithereens just an hour before, dumping the contents into a plastic bag and throwing it into a nearby dumpster. The note had been burned with her cigarette lighter as well. With all this in mind, Naomi Misora strode towards her beloved bike, tossing on her helmet and swinging her leg across the seat, relishing the purr of the engine as it roared to life.<p>

_God she missed this._

The tires let out a loud screech as she swerved down the road. She had a pretty good idea where Elaine Avenue was located, but she zoomed towards the opposite direction, heeding L's words. She felt the air rush past her frantically, whipping her long black hair wildly in the wind. Her helmet did nothing to diminish the ecstasy that was swimming through her body. When was the last time she rode like this? The last time she burned away all of her stress with the adrenaline that coursed through her veins as she sped down the open road? _Far too long ago,_ she decided.

The day was was ending, the light blue sky slowly being cascaded with a warm yellow hue. Twilight began to paint itself over the canvas of the earth, and soon, it was night. Naomi, tired of driving around thoughtlessly, became slightly ecstatic when she realized two hours had gone by. She had made sure to look over her shoulder every five minutes, just as an extra precaution- she prided herself in her observance, a trait that had proven useful in the bureau. No one seemed to have trailed her- no suspicious character was in sight. She approached Elaine Avenue with haste, observing that her bike was almost out of gas. Spotting the Dunkin' Donuts, she eased herself into a space that was about four or five meters away, per L's orders. Quickly and with purpose, she strode into the diner.

Bells chimed quietly as she walked through the door. Music was playing over murmured conversations, the chords of the song almost giving off a ominous aura. There were relatively few people around- a middle-aged man who looked as if he gambled his life away; a young woman flipping through a newspaper; an old lady eating by herself at the back, to pick a few. At the counter, though, a blonde, curvaceous woman leaned against the wall, smoking her cigarette flippantly. She worked there as the cashier, it seemed- a very irresponsible one.

And she possibly knew L.

Naomi walked up to the front, acting as if she was wondering what to order. The cashier noticed her from the corner of her eye, stamping out the cigarette and curving over the register. "What can I get for you, babe?" she drawled, looking Naomi over with deep green eyes.

Naomi was slightly taken aback by the casualness of the question. She had walked in almost expecting a man with a suit and slicked back hair at the counter. But no- L needed them to act subtly, to be as inconspicuous as possible. Relaxing, she mulled a bit more before saying, "I would like a double iced 12 ounce soy mocha with caramel cream and white chocolate," Misora paused here, catching her breath a bit before adding, "Triple the flavor, please."

The woman at the counter raised on perfectly sculpted eyebrow, staring at Naomi incredulously. Inwardly, the FBI agent began to panic. What if this wasn't the right cashier? What would she do then? Who would she wait for? The anxiety began to swell in her chest, threatening to crack her demeanor. Before it did, however, the cashier took out another cigarette, taking a deep breath before looking back over at the Japanese woman.

"Would you like a dozen chocolate donuts with that too?" she said sarcastically.

Naomi's insides relaxed while her face deemed one of annoyance. "No, but fourteen will do fine." she retorted, secretly feeling pleased with herself. The lady rolled her eyes with a huff before handing Naomi a box of pre-stored donuts.

Naomi took the box while running through the plan in her mind. "Thanks," she said off-handedly, deliberately leaving her drink on the counter. She had just gotten through the door, when the cashier lady sauntered after her, carrying her mocha. "You forgot this, hon," she said, holding the drink with red manicured nails.

The Massacre gripped her keys in her sweaty palms, all the while playing the role of a confused customer. "Oh thank you," she said gratefully, shaking the woman's hand heartily. She felt the coolness of her keys slipping away into the stranger's palm, as if she was expecting it. Nodding, the cashier walked back into the diner.

Naomi stuffed the box into her dufflebag, taking a sip of her coffee (which wasn't all that bad) as she walked aimlessly for twenty minutes before approaching the dark gasoline station. The place seemed empty, deserted even, but Naomi walked up to the closed door anyways. She rapped on the glass with three loud knocks, three quiet ones, and three loud knocks again. There was a silence that crept throughout the area, giving Naomi involuntary shivers. Still, she waited.

Finally, the door opened half way, a blonde, rugged looking French man gazing down at her. He gave her a flirty smile and a wink, before asking, "What do you want?". The question itself was innocent, but with that tone and sultry look, Naomi figured he might as well have asked, "Do you want me, baby?"

Suddenly, Naomi remembered L's request that she work around this man as if he were a part of her life. Apparently, L had requested the same of the blonde, and he had opted for the lovers status. It took everything in her not to let out a groan. Instead, she gave a small, flirtatious grin. "I lost the copy," she purred. "Now I need the original."

The man raised both eyebrows in pleasure and walked Naomi in, his arm draped around her waist.

It wasn't until they both were inside that he realized that touching Naomi was probably not a good idea. The bruise forming on the top of his head was inclined to agree.


	3. The Talk

**A/N: Sorry for the late update...senior year is definitely not easy, especially in workload x_x Anyways, I looked over this chapter several times before posting it up, so I'm hoping that it came out nicely :) Anyways, last chapter there was a small challenge made to the readers in that they were to find the "sex without the sex" reference in the first few paragraphs in my story. A reader found it (and two more that I did not even know about) and requested the following: **

_**L CAUGHT IN A THREESOME OF LOVE ****BETWEEN LIGHT AND MISA ****AND HE HAS TO SERENADE ONE OF THEM,** **BUT THE SERENADE MUST INCLUDE THE FOLLOWING WORDS: PENGUIN, HAT, FUGLY, FECES, WAVES, BUFFERING, DINGLEBERRIES, CHEESE BURGER, WEENIE. And whoever he decides to serenade-he must propose to them.**_

**...I will write this...for the sake of honesty and integrity...**

**Anyways, please enjoy the story, and the various allusions to Shakespeare and crackpairings :)**

**-Hana**

* * *

><p><strong><em>To break a path- "to open a way through obstacles by force or labor"<em>**

~o~o~o~

The last of the evening dusk departed from the skies as it was replaced by the blackness of night. A low rumble of thunder growled just as a brief flash of lightning made itself known. The pitter-patter of rain began to quietly tap against the gas station windows, the water lazily dripping down the cracked, neglected panes. There was no light illuminating against the glass, save for a lone, flickering lamp that sat on a dusty counter to the right, directly across from the two figures seated in an ancient-looking booth. Naomi glared at the blonde man in front of her, letting out a huff of triumph as he whimpered pitifully and held an icepack against his forehead. The bruise she had bestowed upon him was an angry red, but was slowly dissipating into a deep, ugly purple.

He was currently giving her a pout, chuckling with embarrassment as he tried to make light of the situation. "I'm sorry, so sorry that you took my actions for advances," he said, fully relaxed as he took out two bottles of champagne. "I was only doing what the instructions said." He then offered her a drink.

Naomi raised an eyebrow cynically. "I memorized that damned piece of paper like it was Scripture," she said dully, pushing the bottle away from her. "You were supposed to act like a stranger."

The French man shifted in the cracked leather seat, leaning back and giving her a relaxed look, even as the mark throbbed rapidly on his head. "L knows that I..._expand_ my limits. Whenever I've deviated from his ridiculously paranoid outlines, it's always been for the best." He rested his chin against his propped arm, giving her a flirtatious wink.

It took everything in Misora's immensely annoyed and irritated soul to not give that stupid bruise a companion. She gave him a harsh gaze, staring him down for a good two minutes before letting her shoulders slump over in defeat. A look of annoyance leered through a black curtain of hair. "...I'm stuck with you for another good twenty minutes," she mumbled, sitting up straight. She absentmindedly ran a hand through her hair before resuming the confident look she had harbored before this man had decided that it was perfectly acceptable to drape himself all over her. "I would at least like to know your name."

His eyes widened slightly in surprise before giving her a devilish glint. "My, my, and why would you want to know that?" he asked with fake innocence. He chuckled and propped his feet upon the small table between them. "Could it be, that you are Kira?"

Naomi stared at him blankly, internally debating whether his face would look better with cuts or bruises. Maybe a combination of both.

His voice than rang out with mirth laughter, chuckling loudly as he grabbed one of the bottles of alcohol. "I have many names," he said, juggling the champagne bottle between his hands idly. He leaned forward, giving her a charming smile. "I could be Allen Brookman, heir to the Brookman oil fortune," he recounted casually. "Or, maybe I am Thomas Truncate, CEO of T&E Interprises. Or," -his eyelids lowered devilishly, taking one of her pale hands and kissing it- "Or, perhaps I am Eraldo Coil, the second greatest detective in the world."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Eraldo Coil?" she repeated cynically. She leaned back in her seat and folded her arms across her chest, her gaze never leaving him once. Her dark eyes were cold and unresponsive, staring at him coolly through a bored, half-lidded look. "I don't believe you." she said flatly.

He put her hand down gently, letting out a strange mixture of a chuckle and a sigh. "Well, I suppose that's to be expected," he said thoughtfully. "Either way, that name does not belong to me anymore. It was taken away from me a long time ago."

Naomi gave him a confused look as she opened her mouth to shoot out a retort. A brief thought stopped her midway- it flashed through her mind, and she slowly sealed her lips, her face going blank with thought. Those names he had offhandedly given her...they sounded extremely familiar. She furrowed her brow in thought, the wheels in her mind churning faster and faster until her eyes widened considerably. She shot up from her seat, her hands slamming down against the table as realization dawned on her.

"Allen Brookman...Thomas Truncate...T&E Interprises?" she turned towards the man in question, her blood boiling as she witnessed a smirk grace his features. "Those are two of the most infamous scams in American history!"

"Why thank you," the blonde said graciously, looking all too smug with his mock gratitude.

She glared at him hotly. "The Brookman case sent the FBI, CIA, and every other agency in America on a wild goose chase for _years_," she hissed. "Not to mention the T&E scam..." she shuddered as she remembered working on that particular case; the hours of paperwork that she went through, the _weeks_ of barely any sleep...needless to say, it had been a nightmare. She felt a surge of nausea hit her before she managed to shake herself out of reminiscing, resuming her fierce glower. "Are you telling me," she gritted seethingly, "That you are single-handedly responsible for almost sending the United States into a second Great Depression?"

He gave her a blank look before smiling casually. "Well, I wouldn't use those exact words...but yes, I suppose you can say that."

"And you're working for L."

"That is correct."

At the moment, Naomi couldn't decipher what she wanted to relish in the most at the moment- strangling the man before her with his own insides, or giving L one lesson in capoera that he would _never_ forget.

Naomi snapped out of her thoughts as she felt herself being gently pushed back into her seat. The con artist dragged a rusty folding chair near the booth, testing it a few times before sitting down next to her. He slouched over a bit, placing his hands on his lap as his eyes grew from jovial to serious.

"Miss Misora, I understand your..._feelings_ against me, but I assure you that L should have at least some of your respect." He had a stern look about him, a far cry from his laid-back attitude from before. She gave him a long, scrutinizing stare, not completely trusting his change of tone. He looked at her once more, his expression never changing. "He is the greatest detective I've ever seen. I find it a privilege to work for him."

The Japanese woman blinked a few times, trying to make sense of what this man was telling her. Was he toying with her? Could it be that She held her cold gaze against him for another minute before letting out a quiet sigh. Her cool glare softened, and her stiff posture relaxed. "L..." she started, hesitating slightly before reaffirming her thoughts. "L...has nothing _but_ my respect." she said firmly. "From what I've seen, he is far from professional and a bit..._odd_, but I have no greater admiration than for him."

There was a silence that settled between the two, the only sound the soft tapping of rain against glass. Slowly, a smile crept its way across the man's face. He stood up suddenly, stretching his muscles as if he had just finished an exhausting run. "Well!" he said cheerfully, giving her a hand, "I suppose it's about time to leave." He gave her a well-meaning wink. "We don't want to miss our ride, do we, _Miss Maki_?"

Naomi stared at him incredulously, largely taken aback by his erratic behavior. Curiously, she took his hand and allowed him to help her up, her dark eyes looking him over with analytical intent. Together, they walked towards the doorway, pausing as the man gave her a soft smile. "Now, this is the part where all the world becomes a stage," he quipped with a dry chuckle. "After you, my dark lady."

She only quirked an eyebrow at the statement, letting him hook his arm around hers. They walked into the cold, the rain having died down to a mere drizzle, a light fog having settled over the ground. The man began spouting out odd French phrases to her, the glint in his playful blue eyes suggesting that the sayings no doubt had sexual innuendos behind them. Naomi fought the urge to maim him.

A white car soon came into sight, a sheet of wet droplets dripping across the exterior. The man held the passenger door open, giving her one more playful wink as he gestured inside. "Ladies first," he smiled.

~o~o~o~o

The drive was not as horrible as she thought it would be- the Frenchman had not tried anything, and had given her no reason to give him a serious injury. But it was quiet. They drove in circles for hours. There was no conversation, no flirting (on his part, of course); in fact the only sound was the light pitter-patter of drizzle that was tapping against the car windows. Naomi shifted uncomfortably, listening to the engine purr softly as the vehicle roamed aimlessly in the LA highways. Finally, letting out a frustrated sigh, she leaned over her cracked leather seat and turned the dial on the radio. Immediately, The Animals began crooning "House of the Rising Sun". A small shudder ran down Naomi's spine. She reached to change the station, but a large hand gently stopped her.

"I like this song," he said simply, giving her a smile.

Naomi looked at him wearily, before turning her gaze to look outside the tinted window. Blue eyes looked at her from the side before focusing on the road before them. "What was he like?" he asked casually.

Misora felt her eyes widen considerably before regaining her cool. "None of your business," she said coldly.

"Raye Penber. FBI agent, specialty in cold cases. Sometimes works on drug-trafficking investigations," he paused, taking in his companion's dark look. "That's where you two met, correct?"

She said nothing.

"Seems like every woman's dream man, if you ask me," the blonde continued, lighting a cigar. "High-paying job, handsome, gentleman...and yet you left him, Naomi Misora."

Her breathing was becoming slightly, just _slightly, _ragged. Her leather-gloved hands tensed around the thick material of her jacket. Her stiff posture was trembling. Finally, she gave the driver a harsh glare. "What the hell do you want?" she murmured through pursed lips.

There was no sign of mirth or playfulness in his expression. He kept his eyes on the road, finally approaching their destination. He said nothing, only getting out of the car and opening her door. As he helped her out, he pulled her close, embracing her as if they were lovers. "Sometimes," he whispered in her ear "The most beautiful roads are the deadliest traps."

He let go of her, giving her a soft smile as he climbed back into the driver's seat. Naomi looked at him incredulously, her voice lost in shock. The sound of the engine rumbling shook her out of the stupor. She looked through the window, pressing her hands against the dark glass. "Did you think of that yourself?" she asked.

A light laugh was heard from the other side of the glass. "No. A man named Ryuuzaki told me to give you that piece of advice."

With that, the car pulled away from the curb and disappeared in the mass of traffic, leaving the raven-haired woman alone on the wet sidewalk.

~o~o~o~

Misora felt herself inwardly flinch, a rush of adrenaline shooting through her veins as she struggled to keep her cool attitude from falling apart. The alcohol was light in spirits, the color a clear orange-yellow. The walls were literally thumping with the sound of loud rock music, the lyrics incomprehensible over the noise of yelling and cheering. The smell of booze, sweat, and sex was rampant. A clearly drunk man stumbled over to her seat at the bar, his brown eyes glazed with lust and stupor. "Wanna have some fun baby?" he slurred. Naomi scrunched her nose in disgust as the stench of beer and sweat invaded her nostrils. "No." she said simply.

A grubby hand leaned sloppily on the counter as he leered at the woman shamelessly. "Come on," he murmured, reaching to cup her leather-clad behind. "...show me that nice ass-"

He was quickly cut off by an acute kick to the mandible, one that sent him flying across the room and crashing into a crowd of partygoers. The music suddenly stopped, the lively chatter immediately screeching to a halt. All eyes turned to the dark-haired woman. She was still frozen in her capoera stance, a light blush of embarrassment spreading across her face when she realized that nearly everyone in the club had their eyes fixed on her. "I..." she sputtered, inwardly scolding herself for not putting herself in such a situation. The only thing Naomi wanted was to leave.

She walked backwards slowly, quickening her pace as she caught sight of the nearest exit. _Shitshitshitshitshit..._ her thoughts were jumbled, her heart was thumping...she just wanted to _scream_. That was it. She messed up yet _another_ assignment. L was never going to trust her again, she was going to lose her biggest case, and she was stuck either returning Raye's neverending phonecalls or hiding under a rock for the rest of her life. Frankly, at this point, she was seriously considering the latter.

The parking lot was full of vehicles, but devoid life. The only noise she could hear was her own boots clacking against the hard cement, and the shivering sounds of her breath as it made light puffs in the cold night air, and the soft padding sounds of sneakers as they moved across the lot...

She stopped suddenly, bracing herself to send her third flying kick of the night. The steps halted into silence. Naomi refused to let herself relax; instead, she let her senses take over. It was nearly impossible to startle her...to date, Beyond Birthday had been the only one who had been able to get under her skin.

A hand gently placed itself on her shoulder, causing the woman to let a startled shudder. "Now, now, River," a bored voice said behind her. "I believe you promised me to take your medication before leaving home, correct?" Immediately, Naomi lashed out with an especially hard kick, sending the offending man sprawling across the gravel. She swerved around to deliver another attack, only to let her eyes widen with shock and embarrassment.

Of course. Tonight just wasn't her night, was it? Misora winced as she finally realized who her "assailant" was.

L looked up from his position on the ground, rubbing the angry-looking welt that was forming on the corner of his mouth. No visible emotion displayed itself on his pale face, his dark eyes were void of emotion. Slowly, he picked himself up from the ground, looking at his attacker wearily. "I believe I have much more practice to complete." he said dully.

It was at this point that Naomi was at a complete loss of words. She wordlessly followed her boss to a black sedan parked not too far away. She said nothing as she was lead to the back seat of the car, remained silent as they drove around in circles for several hours, and was quiet as they pulled up to the airport.

As they climbed out of the car, L looked over at Naomi with a sad gaze. "I am very disappointed in you, Misora-san," he said quietly. Naomi closed her eyes slowly, biting her lip as she got ready for a lecture, punishment, suspension. God knew she deserved it.

"You forgot my doughnuts in the gas station," L continued, popping open a bag of marshmellows. "I take my sweets very seriously."

Naomi stared at him incredulously. He only stared back at her innocently, with mocking naivety. A loud slap was heard across the field.

L fingered the red mark that marred his pale complexion, his dark eyes void of emotion as he tilted his head with a small pout. "Misora-san is mean." he stated.

Naomi only glared at him before storming over to the designated hangar, not noticing the small smile that twitched on the corner of L's mouth.

She was, he mused, definitely the best choice for the job.


	4. Important Authors Note

Usually, when I put up these blasted author's notes, I have some half-baked excuse on why I haven't updated a fanfic for more than a few weeks (months, years, it's that bad). And I'll admit, I've been rather busy- senior year is definitely not easy, with all of the stupid applications and finals and all the stress that comes with doing my best to keep my grades away from anything under a B-. So yeah, it's been a hard year so far. ** However...**

That is _not_ why I haven't updated this story.

For those few people who actually give two craps about this fanfic, don't worry, I'm not abandoning it...far from it. I was, in fact, _revising it_. Truth is, I looked over my outline from the summer, and honestly, I decided I loathed it. I didn't groom Naomi's character enough, focused too much on the romance, and encountered some big time timeline errors. And that's a huge no-no. I want to write a story that has _depth_, not sugarcoated fluff.

So I rewrote the outline. Completely.

I'm currently up to outlining chapter 12 of the planned 32 chapters...when I get up to chapter sixteen, I'll start updating the newly written (or revised) chapters. Naomi's such an underrated character, and if I'm gonna make her star in a story, I want it to be _awesome_. So I'm not promising to update anytime relatively soon (let's face it, I _suck_ at fast updates) but I AM promising to make this story the best one I've ever written in fandom.

Don't lose faith in me! I'm horrible at completing stories...but this is one story that I can't let go of.

I'll start posting the new chapters in at least a month. You have my word. In fact, I give permission for anyone to overflow my inbox with annoying PMs nagging me to update if I don't have the first chapter up by February 20. If you know me IRL, I'll even give you permission to slap me across the face and tell me to finish something for once. Such is my determination to finish what I start.

Thanks for being awesome and patient, guys :) I'll do my best!

-Hana


End file.
